Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Part of me feels like she should be buried at Woodlawn Cemetery, but beggars can’t be choosers. Mr. Shaw paid for everything, is paying for everything. So Mom will rest in a watery grave right here at Wainscott Hollow, with the terns and gulls overhead and the sand of Long Island Sound beneath her. I guess it’s more beautiful than Woodlawn.
I grab the front ring and we hoist the casket onto our shoulders. I stare into the faces of a dozen well-meaning strangers. I’ve never felt more alone in my life, until my eyes meet Kat’s, and I pull in a deep breath. Her eyes are bright and serious, and the strength in them reassures me. I’ll be okay, no matter what happens. My life might change drastically, but I know I’ll survive.
Kat steadily holds eye contact with me as we pass through the aisle of Saint Therese of Lisieux and out into the sunlight.
Back at Wainscott Hollow, I run my hands over the carefully folded clothes packed neatly in Mom’s drawers. What do I do with her stuff now that she’s gone? I see her silver locket in a glass dish on her dresser and put it in my pocket. Inside is a black and white photo of me from when I was a baby.
“She’ll be right next to my mom. They’ll be together,” Kat says from behind, surprising me.
I think that sounds creepy, but I don’t say so because it obviously brings her some comfort. My mom never knew Mrs. Shaw, and if she had, who knows if they’d have gotten along.
Kat propels herself into my arms and almost knocks me over. Her feelings, no matter what, always come on strong. She’s as temperamental as the ocean wind out on the dunes. She sobs into my shoulder as I pat her back.
“I’m sorry I’m crying. I should be the one comforting you,” she protests.
I have to work to keep myself from breaking down. What scares me is the loss I’m about to face with Mom gone. I’ll have nowhere to go. I’ll lose my best friend. Wainscott Hollow has become my whole world, and I can’t imagine a life without Kat in it.
“Can you two both come downstairs? I want to discuss some important family matters,” Mr. Shaw says as he enters the room.
He’s never come in here before, to my knowledge, and I wonder if he even knows which wing of the sprawling estate Mom and I spent our nights in.
Kat and I follow Mr. Shaw down the grand staircase obediently and in complete silence. This is my stop. This is where I get off. My whole life derailed once again and forced to start over.
Henry sits sullenly on the large sectional, his arms folded across his chest. For as well as I’ve gotten along with Kat, her older brother is the absolute opposite. He hates me, and the feeling is mutual. Henry has gone out of his way to remind me I don’t belong here, in Wainscott Hollow, in Montauk, at Fairmont. Any opportunity he gets, Henry reminds me I’m trash. Without the pedigree, the education, the blue blood running through my veins. I think he resents that I achieve things on my own merit. He can’t stand to see someone work for something and win when everything he’s touched has been handed to him on a silver platter.
Henry grunts in our direction. Since Mr. Shaw notified me of Mom’s death, Henry hasn’t given me a word of condolence, even though you’d think he’d be empathetic to the situation, considering he went through the same a handful of years ago.
“I didn’t want to carry the casket, and I’m not going to the cemetery with you. Contrary to what you might think, Father, we don’t owe the servants more than a well-wishing bouquet when they croak. I’ve had enough of these guilt-ridden shenanigans,” he pouts. “You’ve already done more than enough.”
My fists ball, and I take a seat as far away from Henry as the room allows. My mother cared for this asshole, and he thinks it’s appropriate to humiliate me and speak badly of her before she’s even in the ground.
“That will be quite enough, Henry,” Mr. Shaw says. “I’ve gathered you here to speak about that very thing. What we owe to our dear Peggy, who always treated you like family as if you were her own. I’ve asked my lawyer to draw up the paperwork, and I’d like to adopt you, Heath, as one of my own.” He smiles kindly at me and his big, kind eyes well with tears.
Henry scoffs from his chair, crosses his arms, and looks away from us as if he’s too disgusted to entertain a nasty comeback.
“Oh, Heath! Now you’ll be officially part of the family,” Kat exclaims before she jumps into my arms in a grand show of affection.